


Good Morning

by SimplyShelbs16



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-The Final Problem, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyShelbs16/pseuds/SimplyShelbs16
Summary: Though he never replied, Sherlock enjoyed his daily Good Morning texts from Molly...but what happens when the morning after Sherrinford he doesn't receive one?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Only a drabble for now cause college is draining me with all this essay writing (ugh!!). I hope y'all enjoy!

Good Morning. Sherlock would receive a text every morning with those two words. He had never replied to any of them. The sentiment did make his days a bit brighter though. After everything that had happened last night, he felt he would never receive another good morning text again. And he was correct.

Having not been able to sleep well, Sherlock had been up since five in the morning. He was staying at Mycroft’s place, so void of any life. Whilst 221B was a chaotic organised mess, his brother’s place was immaculate. Not one speck of dust would dare to make a living there. And then there was Molly’s flat—his favourite bolthole. Her flat was a perfect balance of his and Mycroft’s tastes. It was lively and cosy, but perfectly organised and cleanly.

His thoughts drifted back to realising that Molly would never send her daily morning text to his phone. It was nearing eleven-thirty in the morning—only a half hour until it was noon. With a dejected sigh, Sherlock supposed he should actually get out of bed and eat something, though he felt quite sick to his stomach. As he dressed, he couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted Molly to know the truth. All these scenarios ran through his head as he flew down the stairs, heading into the plain, dreary kitchen, unaware of a pair of soft brown eyes watching him.

“Good morning.” Molly Hooper smiled sweetly at him, her eyes all aglow.

Sherlock felt his own smile appearing on his face as he approached her cautiously. “Morning.” There were so many questions to ask and so much more he wanted to confess. But, for now, he was content with the fact that she was here, taking his battered hands in hers, and silently telling him that everything would be alright; that the sun will rise. 


End file.
